


A Hole In My World

by EmetoOmo



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Collapsed lung, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, M/M, Pneumonia, Sickfic, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 17:54:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15611754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmetoOmo/pseuds/EmetoOmo
Summary: McCree calls Hanzo, fever dazed, to inform him he's in the hospital.





	A Hole In My World

**Author's Note:**

> anonymous asked: 2 with mchanzo <3 Love ur work
> 
> Hurt/Comfort Prompts  
> 2\. “I’m at the hospital”
> 
> Quick note: I had no idea why one of them would be in the hospital, and borrowed (with permission) a scenario that happened to my husband.

“I’m at…the hospital…703.”  

Hanzo’s blood froze when those words came through the receiver. He couldn’t even remember if he hung up before he was out the door, but he knew he didn’t finish the conversation. Gods above help him, he nary took a breath between the time he was in the car, and the time he was frantically pressing the button for the elevator.  

_“Come on…come on…”_  He growled internally, staring at the numbers that designated which floor it was at currently. His heart was thudding in his ears, and all he could think about was McCree… 

Enough was enough. He turned and dashed to the nearby stairs, climbing them two, sometimes three at a time. When that wasn’t enough, he began just climbing the guard rail, and reaching deftly up for the next, his balance and upper arm strength making quick work of the many flights that separated him from his lover.   
  
When at last he finally found his door, he was almost petrified to open it. For a long moment, he stood on the other side, the overly sterile smell of the hospital filtering in through his nostrils with every worried breath.  

“Han…I know…you’re out there…” McCree’s weak voice sounded on the other side.  

It was all the encouragement he needed to grip the door handle and wrench it downward, pushing the heavy door open and passing through. The air in here smelled thick with sickness, and Hanzo’s face visibly paled when his dark eyes finally fell upon his lover. “What…happened?!”  

At least five tubes visibly protruded from the right side of McCree’s chest, side, and back, a whirring noise of a pump sounding rhythmically. An oxygen mask covered McCree’s face, his hair sticky and damp from fever sweat, IVs pushing antibiotics, pain medication, and fluids into him at a steady pace. He looked bad, his eyes semi-glossy and as they forced focus on Hanzo. 

“I don’t…rightly remember…” he spoke between small breaths. “Lung…collapsed…popped…a hole straight in it…” He tried to chuckle, just one light attempt before he thought better of it. “Didn’t…know I had…pneumonia.” 

“You should stop smoking,” Hanzo said gently, sliding coarse fingers through McCree’s hair. His skin felt as if it were on fire. “You have a fever.” 

“I feel great…” McCree said.  

“You should not. That is not good.” Hanzo turned and stuck his head out, motioning for a nurse incessantly, until one paid him attention and came. “He has a fever.” 

“Yes, we know. We’re doing what we can to bring it down.” She said calmly, looking him up and down. “And you are?” 

Deft fingers slipped a ring onto his finger while it was in his pocket, just to pull it out to show her. “His husband.”  

“Oh!” She said in surprise. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. Mr. McCree, your husband has been sick for quite some time, and it seems the pneumonia caused a blister on his lung, which ruptured and resulted in a pneumothorax. A hole in his lung. We—” 

“Is he going to be alright?” He interrupted desperately, a lack of patience surfacing in the older Shimada that McCree was not familiar at all with. 

 “It is still touch and go. The next couple of days will tell us more,” she said calmly.  

“You cannot tell me whether he will live with certainty? Wait and see?” Even through his fever haze, McCree could see the tension mounting in his lover. “I suggest you draft up transfer papers. [i]Now.[/i]” 

“Sir, you do not have authorization to—” 

He held a single finger up directly in the nurse’s face, and pulled out his cell phone. Pulling up the contact he needed, he pressed send, and waited for the female’s voice on the other end to answer, sounding stressed and overworked already. “You tell her what you told me. Then you will transfer him to her care.”

 “I’m sorry, but who is  _she?_ ” The nurse asked, her own patience for Hanzo running thin.  

_”She is Doctor Angela Zeigler. And if Hanzo is calling, I’m supposing it is over my patient, Jesse McCree.”_  Hanzo could hear her say through the phone.  

“I…yes, yes ma’am. I…we…no, alright. Yes. Right away. I understand. Yes. Sorry for the—” Hanzo supposed Angela simply demanded what she needed, gave her what she needed to carry it out, and hung up on her, seeing the put off look on the nurse’s face.  

“We’ll have him transferred within the hour.”  

“Good.” He took his phone back, and slipped it within his pocket, returning to McCree’s side to wait, sliding his fingers through his hair. “You’re going to be alright.”

“Who’s…ring didja nick?” he asked, amused at Hanzo’s resourceful fib.  
  
Hanzo glanced down at the wedding band and smiled a little. “Doctor that was just flirting with that nurse before I found your room.”   
  
McCree gave him a smile. “We gotta…put a real one…on yer finger..so ya don’t gotta…nick em…anymore.” Hanzo laughed softly. “If you would quit getting hurt so much, it would be nice too.” 

~fin~


End file.
